


once upon a nonfat frap

by literato



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alpine the Cat, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bickering, Blowjobs, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, M/M, bucky calls steve 'blondie' a lot, steve calls bucky 'asshole' a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 16:02:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21394864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literato/pseuds/literato
Summary: [based on prompt by virgno in tumblr]"Soulmate au where instead of having the first thing they say tattooed on each other, they instead have a random sentence tattooed that that person will say around them. And so you know it’s not just a coincidence when they say it, the tattoo stings and fades away. Person A going out with someone and just waiting for them someday to say the sentence they have, but then the barista at Starbucks says it instead."[edited]
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 13
Kudos: 310





	once upon a nonfat frap

**Author's Note:**

> hii i miss stevebucky

Steve can’t help slamming the door behind him as enters his apartment, shrugging off his coat and tossing it on the couch. He sits down right on it as he toes off his shoes and kicks his feet up on the couch. From the kitchen, Sam, his roommate, peeks his head into the living room, “Aren’t you supposed to be getting laid?”

Steve glares at him.

Sam raises his hands up, one holding a wooden spoon, “Alright, sorry. So no words?”

“We talked about literally everything!” Steve throws his hands up frustratedly, “We didn’t even have sex! We just talked and he won’t say this stupid thing.” He hits his hip, where, under his belt, is a string of words tattooed on his hip.

_Jesus Christ, a non-fat with extra cream._

And okay, it’s not the most poetic of words, and honestly Steve can’t expect such a sweet guy like Michael to have those come out of his mouth. But they’ve been going out for _weeks, _and Steve is just waiting for him to say the words, so Steve can finally feel that sweet sting and _then _he’ll know that Michael is it.

And so far, he isn’t.

“You know, you don’t have to wait for the words.” Sam says. Eventually, he comes out of the kitchen and into the living room carrying a plate of his own dinner, “Some choose to live their whole lives not meeting their soulmate.”

Steve sighs, “I know. I guess it’s just kind of unsettling that _if _Michael isn’t it, then everyday I’ll wonder where my true soulmate is.”

“True.” Sam agrees with a shrug, “But you’ll never know. Your guy seems nice and you work together, so you have plenty of time. Just get him to talk about coffee or anything with _extra cream._”

Steve almost smacks him.

The next morning, Steve is on the way to work and he goes by a local coffee shop to grab some breakfast. As he falls into line, Michael calls him.

“Hi.” Steve greets. He watches the baristas go crazy with the long line, but they were all subtle enough not to show any panic. “I was just going to grab some coffee on the way to work. Want one?”

“Please.” Michael groans miserably, “I’ll have a nonfat caramel Frappuccino with extra cream.”

Steve fishmouths a bit. He was distracted by only two things; 1) the fact that those words were _so, so _close to his, and 2) it was so hard not to cringe at the order that he’s glad they were on the phone, but to each his own.

“Alright. I’ll see you later.” Steve hangs up, and _no, _he is not going to judge the only person he likes because of his favorite coffee, no matter how ridiculous it is.

Eventually, it was Steve’s turn to order, and he orders his usual as well as Michael’s. And yes, though the girl behind the counter tried her best, Steve didn’t miss the way her lips pursed as she wrote down the order on the cup. As Steve pays, the empty cups get set aside only to be picked up by this… okay, guy is hot. Barista guy is hot.

Steve shifts on his feet, looking away.

He’s about to move out of the way, but then he takes _one _step to the side and it happens:

_ “Jesus Christ, a nonfat with extra cream.” _

Steve feels the sharp burn right on his hip, and he yelps, doubling over to press a hand against his hip. It causes a bit of a commotion, people stepping away from him as he sweeps an arm out to grip the counter. It knocks off the displayed junk, and the cashier gasps, “Sir, are you okay?”

No, he really isn’t. Besides the sting on his hip he actually thinks he’s _bleeding, _he just found out that that scarily attractive barista is his soulmate.

And he just called him hot and attractive in a matter of two minutes, this isn’t _right._

“I’m okay.” Steve straightens up, and he can’t help but awkwardly jut his hip out as he tries to shake himself out of the pain which was already fading gradually. He can already feel the whispers behind him, and he feels like they already know what happened.

Steve manages to step aside and the flow of the line continues. The barista was looking at him curiously, eyebrows frowned. “We’ll get your order for you right away.” The girl says.

“No, No, it’s alright.” Steve shakes his head. He doesn’t want to stay here longer, “I…” He looks back at the barista. _James, _his tag reads. He looks up to meet those eyes, blue and frowning. To add onto that, a few locks of his hair have escaped from his low ponytail to frame his face. And shit, he’s still holding Steve’s cups in his hands.

“Do you need medical attention?” The barista- _James _says, eyes looking down at Steve’s hand holding his own hip.

“No, no, it’s okay—I—” He stutters. What is he supposed to say?_ I’m your soulmate, man, funny coincidence. What a morning, _“I’m just gonna go.” He lamely says, pointing towards the door. He makes a not-so-graceful exit and walk to his bus stop. As he waits for the bus, he discreetly untucks his shirt on his left side, and just pulls the waistband of his trousers back. As expected, the tattooed words on his hip, block and angry, were gone and not a trace was left.

“Shit.” Steve feels his stomach drop. So it’s real this time.

He is never coming back. He got to work just a few minutes before call time and instead of coming by to see Michael he hid in the _toilets _because _no, _he is not doing this now. Not while he can still feel the itch where his tattoo had been.

Oh my God, did he just cheat? Would it even be considered cheating if he didn’t technically do anything? Or the fact that he and Michael have only been on a few dates and technically they still don’t have a label?

Steve felt the guilt churn around in his stomach the whole day. Because of that, he resorted to busying and isolating himself from everyone the whole day. As soon as he could clock out, he ran like hell out of there.

It’s a familiar scene once again; as soon as he got home Sam was there enjoying his freelance life, and he popped his head from the kitchen as Steve entered, “Hey—”

Steve tossed his coat and unbuckled his belt.

“Uh Steve—”

Steve pulled down his pants, and gripping the waistband of his boxers, he pulled them down just a _tiny _bit to show the scar etched on his skin, “My words are gone.”

Sam stood there dumb for a few seconds before it all clicks, “Oh my God.” He abandons his food to come to Steve, “Steve! Oh my God!” He looks giddy, “I told you, man, you were being too impatient. Michael oughta say your words sooner—”

Steve huffs, pulling his pants back up, “It’s not Michael.”

“Say what?”

Steve drops on the couch, crossing his arms, _“It’s not Michael.” _It’s this insanely hot and mysterious guy in a coffee shop Steve hasn’t spoken a word to.

Sam sits down beside him, “Then…”

“It’s this random guy from coffee shop on the way to work.” Steve sighs. He remembers those biceps in that black shirt and his apron which was nothing compared to the span of his chest, “I ordered Michael’s drink and the guy said my words the second he saw my cup.”

Sam snorts too loudly for Steve’s sanity, “Oh God.” Sam laughs, “That is… wow, buddy. What’s your plan?”

“Hide forever.”

“Oh man, you gotta talk to Michael.”

“I’m not gonna leave him to be with a stranger, Sam.”

“Okay, that’s not what I said _at all, _and relax.” Sam nudges him, “I mean, it can make you feel better if you come clean. Even if technically none of it’s your fault—you’re just guilty as hell because you’re like that.”

“I should probably talk to the guy as well.” Steve says. When he looks over to Sam, he’s looking at this with unreadable look, “What?”

“Nothing.” Sam raises his hands, “Do whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“The hell was that?” Bucky says as the blond pretty much stumbles to the doors of the shop. Beside him, Sharon shrugs, “You sure you didn’t scare him off?”

“Ha.” Bucky rolls his eyes, and he tosses the guy’s empty cups to the side. A _nonfat _with _extra _cream-- who in their right mind would think that made a difference? Blond guy probably did, though Bucky can forgive him for those ridiculous pecs and the glorious fit of those pants around that ass.

“For _Camille—_” Sharon calls out to the customer, sliding the cups of coffee on the counter for them to grab. She turns to Bucky then, “You think he got his words?”

Bucky frowns, “Can’t the guy just have a bad hip or something?” Though, that isn’t really the best conclusion. Guy looked like he could bench press Bucky with one arm. And Bucky would gladly let him.

Sharon rolls her eyes, “With that body?”

Bucky grins cheekily, “Nah, you’re right.”

“Oh my god, what if he’s my soulmate?”

“Didn’t you just say if anyone would be your soulmate, it sure as hell shouldn’t be a man?” Bucky slides another mixed drink towards her.

“What if he’s _your _soulmate?” Sharon wiggles her eyebrows.

Bucky looks at her, unamused, “The last thing I need is someone to tie me down.”

“That’s what they all say.” Sharon hums, “I hope he comes back.”

The guy isn’t a regular, but Bucky can certainly hope. Suddenly his words itch, a short stretch down his forearm.

The next morning, he’s up early for his shift. Nothing new, but his muscles don’t feel that. He waves a lazy hand to the others already there setting up before going to the back to slip on his apron. The mornings are the busiest times, and certainly not Bucky’s favorites. Which is probably why Natasha put his shift as early as possible to shit with him.

Bucky walks into Wanda, who was carrying these large trays or pastries, “Morning.” Bucky greets, swooping in to grab one tray before it can topple over. As he goes on to help her scoop them into the display case, there was a _knock _on the glass doors.

“Uh…” The crew looks over, because usually no one really _knocks _on a closed shop. Bucky looks up, and it was the big guy from yesterday. He looks not so fresh. Natasha opens the door for him, and they talk. Blondie looks really persistent, though, and Bucky freezes when he suddenly gestures towards him.

“Barnes?” Natasha asks. She crosses her arms, then, “Sir, can I help you?”

Hearing his name, Bucky puts down the tray on the counter. He’s going to have to walk over so the guy doesn’t cause another commotion at seven in the damn morning.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asks and he even has to look up at Blondie, which… doesn’t really come out as intimidating as he had hoped it’d be.

“Hi.” Guy stretches out a hand, “I’m Steve Rogers.” He fumbles around for his wallet before pulling out a card. Indeed, it says Steven Grant Rogers, “And I need to talk to you.”

Bucky nods his head at Natasha, who sighs and goes, thankfully. Bucky turns back to _Steve, _“Two minutes.” He gives. Looking at Blondie closely, he could see those blue eyes and red lips more clearly. Goddamn.

“Okay, I was here yesterday.” Steve starts.

“Yes.” Bucky agrees slowly.

Steve blurts out, “You’re my soulmate.”

Bucky does a double-take, blinking at the guy before managing a disbelieving, _“What?”_

“Okay, that’s _not _what I rehearsed.” Steve puts his hands up, and he reels back with a sigh, “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m coming off as a creepy.” He tries again, “If you don’t remember—”

“I remember.” Bucky says as soon as he got the initial phase of surprise, “Not that easy to forget, pal.”

Blondie _blushes_, goes beet red and _adorable, _“Yeah, well. My words were right on my hip.” His hands twitch as if they were considering pulling down his pants to show Bucky right there and then, “And you said them.”

“Hence, the whole mess you created.” Bucky crosses his arms, “What exactly did I say?”

“Um—I ordered a drink—”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “A nonfat with extra cream, Jesus.”

“That!” Steve exclaims, and he must have seen the others’ reaction from behind Bucky shoulder, so he tones it down, “Yeah, those were my exact words.”

“And how exactly are you going to prove that?” Bucky says, watching Blondie squirm. He doesn’t mean to be a dick, but this guy is taking claim at something he can’t even prove, “Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you. And I don’t know you. You just waltzed in here saying I’m your soulmate.”

“You are.” Steve insists.

Bucky sighs, “Even if I am, I’ve got nothing for you, pal. You can keep your fairytales to yourself.” He can see irritation bleed in those puppy features, and honestly Bucky just doesn’t have time for that. He shrugs and turns, walking away.

It isn’t until he reaches the counter when he hears it—an angry mutter, laced with so much displease, _“I almost broke my fucking hip for you, asshole.”_

Bucky yelps, feeling his arm burn. He clutches the counter, and he sees the tattooed words on his skin disappear right in front of him, with his own two eyes. Holy shit.

Bucky whips around, looking for that goddamn blond idiot, but he was long gone.

“Hey.” Michael says as soon as he opens the door to his apartment. Steve smiles, pocketing his hands. Michael lets him in, and before he could do anything Steve speaks.

“I won’t stay long.” He scratches his head. He doesn’t even sit on the couch, “I just wanted to talk.”

Michael leaned against the counter, the space of the living room separating them, “You sound serious. What’s up?”

Steve’s been panicking for over a day that it’s not even normal anymore. Who panics and loses his shit over an asshole? Sure, _James Barnes _was ridiculously attractive but after that whole scene at the coffee shop—

Steve still can’t stop thinking about him.

He doesn’t know if it was the soulmate’s thing that’s making him like this, but it definitely is. And it’s not fair for Michael. Steve has met James Barnes _twice, _for no longer than five minutes, and he’s already driven Steve hot and angry at the same time. Steve’s going _crazy._

“You got your words.” Michael says, “And it’s not from me, isn’t it? Otherwise you wouldn’t be all the way there.”

_ “I’m sorry.” _ Steve almost gasps. Michael’s too good for him, “I didn’t expect for it to happen.”

“Steve, no one does.” Michael says, laughing under his breath, “No one has a choice. What we can choose though is what we do after, but you already made that decision.”

Steve slumps, guilt flowing all inside him, “I just think it’s not fair to you.”

“I’m not mad.” Michael laughs again, “I mean, we had a great time, you’re _really _nice, but if you met your soulmate, then I will, as well.” He shrugs, “What’s he like?”

Steve clenches his fists, grits his teeth, “He’s an asshole.”

“So it’s like that.” Michael snorts, “Still want to see him, though?”

A tinny voice affirms at the back of Steve’s head, but he’s not going to say that out loud.

Steve spends a few hours in Michael’s apartment, and really he can’t help but think that they really were better off as friends. The next day rolls in. They had an early conference meeting so to put it simply, almost everyone was either yawning, snoozing in and out of sleep, or grumpy. And their manager obviously noticed it, and she acknowledged them by the end of the meeting.

“Didn’t you guys go for a little coffee run?” Pepper says, standing at the end of the long conference table with the screen fading black behind her. She looks out the glass door separating them from the outside before turning to them.

“The coffee in the pantry is crap, Ma’am.” Val says. In her defense, it really was.

Pepper laughs, “Well, good thing I did.” She gestures for someone outside.

A guy comes in carrying like almost a dozen coffees, balancing them on their arms and—

“Oh shit.” Steve gapes, and everyone turns to him. Including James.

James must’ve not noticed him coming in, but he did now. He’s in his uniform but with a cute yellow helmet perched on his head, long hair hidden under it. Steve can’t help but smile. Naturally. Steve is a morning person; he’s not smiling because of James. He’s smiling because… it’s morning.

“Oh my God, you’re Godsent, Ms. Potts.” Peter says, making grabby hands for a cup.

James puts down the cups on the table, and he unstraps his helmet and pulls it off. For what reason, Steve doesn’t know. He really hoped James didn’t do that, because now Steve got to witness how his hair fell down and more of his face was exposed. Steve feels his heart ache. Godsent.

Then James accepts the payment, thanks Pepper, waves to everyone, before getting the hell out of there.

Steve is up from his chair before his coffee can get to him. He catches up with James by the elevator where he was waiting, “You’re here.”

Bucky only presses the ‘down’ button, “I’m aware.”

Steve shakes his head, huffing at himself. He fishmouths, not really knowing what he’s going to say, or why he thought James would give him a second look.

James beat him to it, “Okay.” He turns to Steve, releasing a breath, “I was rude, dismissing you like that back in the—” He looks at Steve, a silent ‘_you already know’_, and Steve nods, “I’m sorry.”

Steve blinks at him, “So you believe me?”

James was _good _at hiding his expressions, “I didn’t say that.”

“Okay, look—”

The elevator dings and the doors open. Bucky steps in. Steve makes a move to follow him, but he had to do a double-take. Triple-take.

“Hey, you.” Michael grins, “Pepper called you guys early.”

Steve settles in between them; Michael by the buttons, Bucky pressed against the opposite corner. Steve clears his throat, “It was fine. Just gonna be a bit busy this week.”

“I’m going to grab some breakfast, wanna come?”

“B2.” Steve and Michael more or less jumps at the dark voice. Steve looks back at James, who looked like he was ready to deck someone. Michael presses the button, sharing a look with Steve.

Steve laughs awkwardly, “No thanks, next time.”

“What floor are you?”

Steve clears his throat, “B2.”

“Brave of you to claim we’re soulmates when you’re going out with someone, Mr. Rogers.” James says, long after Michael have exited the elevator and James reached the basement for the parking lot. With Steve trailing behind him.

“I’m not going out with him.” Steve calls out, “Or with anyone.”

James reaches his small van, “It’s not my business.” He turns to Steve, “Why are you still here?” He’s so passive, oh my God, Steve likes him so much.

“’Cause-- I don’t know.” Steve answers truthfully, “You piss the hell out of me.”

James pockets his hands, “You’re welcome.” Steve saw how his lips twitched up.

“And I’ll let you do it. Again.”

“Why are you like this?” James asks, “We don’t know each other. The only thing we’ve got is this invisible, useless thing saying we’re soulmates.”

Steve grins, feeling giddy all of a sudden, “So you think we’re soulmates?”

James opens his mouth to argue, then closes it, then opens it again, “Oh my God you are a giant puppy.”

An almost-smile tugs at James’ lips, until he’s rolling his eyes and turning away. Steve follows him, even as James hops into the driver’s seat, standing between the van and its open door. James looks at him, “You’re chasing a low class with no car who lives in a shitty studio apartment with a grumpy cat, you know that, right?”

Steve offers a hand, “Nice to meet you.” He waits.

James’ eyes glance from his hand and back to his face. He shakes his head and reaches past Steve to grab the handle, “Goodbye, Rogers.” He slams the door closed and backs out of this space and out of the parking lot.

Bucky hops out from the van, slamming the door closed. He spent most of the day handling deliveries, and honestly, he doesn’t want to do it again. Not when he gets taken to places where it will take him to overbearing, blond idiots. When he gets in, the whole place is almost empty except for a teenager vigorously working on his laptop like his fingers will fall off. The shop closed minutes ago, but Natasha was too nice to kick the guy out.

“You have an hour, kid.” Natasha says, before she notices Bucky, “Oh, you’re back. Flip the sign behind you, will you?”

Bucky turns back to the glass doors, reaching for the sign. A motorcycle arriving makes him hesitate, though. It stops right in front of the shop. And—oh no, Bucky recognizes that damn royal blue shirt and those massive biceps. The rider pulls off his helmet and looks towards the shop. Bucky curses. Stupid Steve with his messy hair.

Steve finally notices him and a big grin spreads over his dumb face. He waves. Bucky opens the doors just so, leaning against the doorway. The heavy door is leaning against his shoulder, but he pays no mind to it as he crosses his arms, “Shop’s closed.”

Steve walks over, helmet hooked on his arm. He glances at the shop and back at Bucky, “That’s not what I’m here for.”

“Then _what?”_

“I’m persistent, James.”

Bucky is genuinely surprised Steve knows his name, but then he remembers he wears name tags and that those are quite useful sometimes, “And goddamn stubborn.” He adds, “And it’s Bucky.”

Steve grins, “Bucky.”

Bucky purses his lips to stop a grin, “Bye, Rogers.” He moves to close the door, but is stopped by a small hand. Bucky looks over and sees Natasha.

“You’re getting familiar.” She’s speaking to Steve, holding the door open as she leans against it.

Steve smiles, still a beaming ray of sunshine, “Ma’am. Steve Rogers.” He offers a hand.

Natasha shakes it. Bucky looks at her, feeling betrayed, “And you’re Barnes’…?”

Steve sends his smile towards Bucky. Bucky answers for him, “Liability.”

Blondie’s smile doesn’t waver, “That’s one way to put it.”

“Sweep him off his feet, soldier.” Natasha says, beginning to walk away, “He’s rejected anyone who’s taken a second look at him. Must be waiting for you.”

“I’ll make it worth the wait, then.”

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Bucky cracks, “Shield’s, Saturday, 8pm. If you ditch me, don’t ever come back.”

“You can personally walk me to hell.” Steve promises. He’s still standing there hugging his helmet and not fixing his adorably messy hair, “I’ll see you.”

Bucky barely lets a laugh escape, rolling his eyes, “Walk.” Then he goes back inside, leaving his Blondie bouncing with glee outside.

Becca opens the door, and her eyes immediately fall on the shaggy grumpy orange cat in a cage that Bucky was carrying, “What.”

Bucky thrusts Al forward, “I got a date tonight.”

“A date!” Becca exclaims, “Wearing that?!”

Bucky looks down on himself; he was wearing some tight black jeans, a black shirt and a jacket he snagged off the back of his closet, “I look good.”

Becca purses her lips, “Yeah, you’re right. But you didn’t tell me!”

Bucky still has arms raised forward for her to take Al, “Watch him for me.” Normally, when he’d go out, he’d just leave Al at home since he would only plan to be gone for a couple of hours.

But now, truth be told, he hopes he can stay a bit longer.

Becca notices this, but she does take Al after giving Bucky a suspicious look, “You’re out on a date.”

“Yup.” Bucky answers easily, but his chest is hammering for some reason.

“And not just a casual dick-click or something, right? This is _serious._ You haven’t been out on a date!” Becca exclaims.

“Alright, Jesus, so I like the guy.” Bucky rolls his eyes. He’s happy Becca has a shitty porchlight or else she’d probably see him blushing, “But he’s still a stranger.” Who also happens to be Bucky’s soulmate, holy shit.

Becca lets him go. Or rather, Bucky reaches in for the door to pull it closed himself before walking back to the bus stop. When he gets to Shield’s, he’s relieved that not much people were there. It’s one thing he likes so much about this place. It’s the right amount of small to not attract any attention, but big enough for a small gathering. Or a first date.

Bucky easily spots Steve’s huge shoulders by the window table. He’s got a glass of water in front of him, seemingly watching it condense or something. When Bucky gets close enough, he looks up, and Bucky’s breath is easily taken from him. Steve is wearing this white shirt underneath a dark jacket, blond hair styled up. He smiles wide at Bucky, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Bucky slides into the booth across from him, “Was I late or…”

“Nah, you’re fine.” Steve assures him, still smiling that adorable shy grin.

They talk, they drink some beer, order food, order a different beer because the first round was shit, and talk. An hour in and Bucky feels comfortable in his own skin around Steve. Steve tells him all about himself; how he was a skinny little shit when he was a teenager (“still a little shit.” Bucky says.), how he nearly died for like seven times, how he got the job, and so on. In return, Bucky talks about himself as well; how his parents died, how he got his cat Al, and more. And he is in bliss.

“I don’t even know how I ended up in finance.” Steve says, frowning a bit as he thought about it.

“Would you want to do something else?” Bucky asks.

“I want to be an artist.” Steve answers, “Like, sell my art, do exhibits.”

“It’s not too late.” Bucky tells him, encouraging, “I’ll want to see your art, though.”

Steve smiles, “You can be my art.”

“Oh my god.” Bucky groans, laughing under his breath, “You might as well say that you want to draw me like a French girl.”

Steve laughs, “I can do that, too.”

Oh god, he is such a little shit—Bucky likes him _so much. _

Their laughter dies down, and they’re left gazing at each other like a bunch of loved-up idiots. Which, they probably are already. Bucky clears his throat then, and before Steve can start on a new conversation, he says, “You said my words.”

Steve blinks, “What—just now?” He looks so confused.

“No.” Bucky says. He unconsciously scratches at his forearm, “The day you came back to the shop. When you said you nearly broke your hip for me.”

Steve crosses his arms, an amused look on his face. Bucky tries hard not to redirect his eyes, “I almost did.”

“I’d say you were just whining.”

“I’d say you were an asshole.”

Bucky tosses his head back and laughs. When he looks back at Steve, he’s looking back at him with the softest look Bucky has ever seen on a man.

Steve smiles, “You believe me?”

Bucky falters. He looks into those honest blue eyes. Bucky could say yes and where would they go from there? Would they continue being perfect like this? It’s a huge risk to take. There’s a lot Bucky has told Steve tonight, but none of them involves Bucky being grumpy in the morning, or how he can be extremely messy, or how he snaps at people when they so much as look at him wrong, and so many things Steve can dislike. And okay, he generally thinks that if someone doesn’t like him for who he is, then they can fuck off, but this is _Steve._

Steve leans forward, and he hesitates before taking Bucky’s hand, “Hey.” He says, “Talk to me.”

Bucky finds himself able to breathe as he focuses on Steve. It was that easy. He gulps, “You want to try this with me?”

Steve nods, “I really do.”

“You sure about this?” Steve pants against Bucky’s neck, littering kisses over the light stubble on his skin. They’re out in the _hallway, _just outside of Bucky’s apartment while he fumbles around with his keys to get them inside. Their date ended an hour ago, and Steve only got pure bliss swimming around in him. He hasn’t felt this way about anyone.

Bucky grunts as he finally unlocks the door and pushes it open. Steve follows him in, meeting him halfway in a kiss. Bucky pushes him backwards to slam the door shut. He reaches for Steve’s jacket, pushing it off Steve’s shoulders. Once it’s off, he tosses it over his shoulder.

He’s kissing up Steve’s neck when he hears it—a tinny, grumpy meow. Steve must’ve heard it, too, because he suddenly tenses, his neck moving as if he was looking around. And then he begins to laugh, “Was that—”

Meow.

Bucky whips around, seeing his asshole cat sitting right on his window sill out on the fire exit. The window is still closed, but Al is meowing so loudly the barrier doesn’t serve its purpose.

“Oh no.” Steve moves past him, chuckling fondly as he approaches the window. He slides it open, and Al the Asshole purrs and rubs against Steve’s chest.

Bucky walks over, and he resists the urge to stomp. He stares down at his cat, betrayed, “You were supposed to be at Becca’s.”

Steve is scratching behind Al’s ear, hence the extra loud purring it’s doing, “Who’s Becca?”

“My sister.” Bucky sighs. He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, and he fishes it out. As soon as he sees it’s Becca herself, he answers, “You let my cat cockblock me.”

Steve chuckles.

Becca was gasping, “Is he there?! I swear I looked away for _one _second and he was gone!”

“Stop, the moment is already over.”

“Oh my God, is your guy there?!”

“That’s what I meant by cockblock, yes.”

“Give me deets! As soon as you’re done!” She shrieks, and then she hangs up on Bucky.

Steve is confused, but the same time wearing an amused smile on his face. He’s picked up Al and is cradling him to his chest, “I think it’s cute he knows his way home.”

Bucky sighs, cracking. He loves his cat so damn much. But only because the sight before him has him swooning—Steve with messy hair and pink cheeks, with Al the Fluff in his large arms. They make quite a picture. It’s as if Steve fit right into his home.

“I feel like I’m in a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows kind of mood.” Bucky blurts out.

Steve smiles, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Bucky walks past him and into the kitchen, but not before giving him a sweet kiss.

A few minutes later finds them lazing around on the couch. Steve was pressed against one arm, Al on his lap, and Bucky was sprawled over the length of the couch, leaning the weight of his torso against Steve. And his pretty sure Al wasn’t the only one purring.

They were watching Frozen 2, because it was kid-friendly and there was a kid present on Steve’s lap. Every so often, Steve would turn his head just so, nuzzling his nose against Bucky’s temple before turning back to the tv. It was weird as fuck, but Bucky finds himself doing the same. Al would be pleased they were acting like cats rubbing up against each other.

“I haven’t watched Frozen 1.” Steve says, just as the credits to roll. As he moves to stretch, Al hops off his lap out towards the kitchen, probably to snag some food that wasn’t even his.

Bucky waits a beat, before he turns into action. He practically vaults over Steve’s lap, throwing a leg over Steve’s and straddling him under a moment’s pause. He smiles, “Hi.”

Steve is looking at him like he’s a piece of art, a small smile on his face and eyes sparkling, “I think we’re gonna do something Al shouldn’t see.”

“Oh, we’re gonna.” Bucky dips down to kiss him, hands cupping his face. He feels Steve’s big hands land on his thighs, before slowly sliding up to hold his waist. And Bucky swore he just sighed against his mouth, which was suddenly replaced by a yelp when he felt himself being lifted. Steve had stood up, gripping Bucky’s ass. He’d pulled back to beam at Bucky, “Where’s your bed?”

Distractedly, hanging onto Steve’s neck, “We don’t need a bed.”

“We need a bed.”

“Okay.” Bucky blinks, because when did Steve start to kiss his neck? “It’s through the only door besides my front door.”

Steve carries him through it, “Oh, you mean the extremely fluffy mattress on the floor?”

“I keep it on the floor so Al wouldn’t have to jump so high to get to me.”

Steve pressed a quick kiss on his lips, “That’s cute.” And Bucky definitely did not shiver when Steve managed to gently lay him down despite the low dip. His mattress, though missing a bed frame, really is soft enough and he prides himself for that. Steve doesn’t seem to mind, either, simply leaning down to cage Bucky with his limbs. Bucky meets him halfway, and he actually feel his heart beat faster and faster and they haven’t really started yet. 

Bucky cups his jaw, pulling him down to kiss him deeper. Steve makes a noise before pulling away, “I wanna see it.”

Bucky glances down at his dick, “Okay.” He reaches his hands down, and Steve huffs out a laugh.

“I meant your scar, you idiot.” Steve lowers his weight on the mattress, facing Bucky and propping up on one elbow.

Bucky turns to face him. Steve looks curious, eyes filling with wonder as he stares down at Bucky. Bucky raises his arm up, showing him the faint thin scar—a short line down the length of his forearm. Steve rubs it with his thumb gently, almost feather-like. With a whisper, he spoke, “Why do our words have to be so ugly?”

Bucky laughs, practically tackling Steve back into the mattress and sitting on his stomach. Steve is chuckling underneath him, all smiles and fond eyes. His shirt has ridden up, and Bucky can’t help but look down at the sliver of skin showing, “I wanna see yours.”

His true intention might have shown on his face, because Steve snorts, “You sure you’re not just trying to get to my dick?”

Bucky was already unbuckling Steve’s belt off, “Of course not. That’s ridiculous.”

Steve rolls his eyes and shifts his hips, helping Bucky finish his goal of undressing him, “So romantic.”

When Steve’s down to his boxers, Bucky pulls his own shirt off, but he barely gets his arm from the sleeve before Steve’s pulling him down by the neck. Steve’s lips are so soft, and Bucky groans into his mouth when he pushes his tongue into Bucky’s. Their liplock lasts for minutes, and soon Bucky is pushing his ass down on Steve’s clothed dick. Only his jeans and Steve’s underwear separating them.

And that can’t do.

Bucky shimmies from his own jeans, tossing it off behind him. Steve reaches a hand out to rest on Bucky’s bare chest, on the base of his neck. His eyes follow his hand as he slowly slides it down Bucky’s pecs, then down on his abs. With two hands, he cups Bucky’s hips, thumbs outward to trace the crease of his thigh. Bucky’s breath hitches when Steve squeezes.

Bucky breathes out, “You’re killing me here.”

Steve, after getting them both fully naked, sits up to meet Bucky in a kiss again. It’s brief, redirecting his kisses to Bucky’s skin. He bites down gently before sucking on the skin, licking to soothe it. Bucky has his head tossed back, back bended as he offers more of himself to Steve.

“Wanna touch you.” Steve murmurs, and then his hand dips down Bucky’s ass, tracing Bucky’s hole with his finger.

Bucky nods. Steve’s other hand has reached his cock, holding it loosely and slowly pumping it. Steve doesn’t keep up with that pace, though, gradually growing faster and harder. His finger rubbing Bucky’s hole doesn’t relent. If anything, it’s insistent.

“Lube.” Bucky gasps. He sweeps a hand out, reaching for his drawer. It’s quite distracting when you have attention on _both sides, “Jesus.”_

“You alright there?” Steve pulls back with a smirk. At least he slowed down his fist. He takes the lube, and with one strong arm around Bucky, he flips them back to their previous position with him on top.

“Hi.” Steve peppers his kisses down Bucky’s chest, playfully biting his hip before licking a long stripe on Bucky’s dick, sucking on the head.

“Guh.” Bucky gasps, pushing his hips into Steve’s mouth. 

A wet finger rubs Bucky’s hole, slowly pushing in and _God, _it’s been a while. Bucky squeezes on the appendage, and Steve pulls off his cock to kiss Bucky’s thighs, “So tight, baby.”

“Please, Stevie.”

“Stevie?” Steve asks, sounding pleased, “That’s new.”

“Better than Blondie.”

Steve raises his head, quirking an eyebrow, “You called me Blondie?”

“Only in my head.” Bucky grins down at him, running his hands through his hair.

“Fair enough.” Steve pressed a kiss on his hip before looking up at him again, “I called you asshole.”

Bucky laughs, and he tugs Steve up to kiss him. Steve pumps his finger, pulling back a second to say, “Fuck.” He says, breathless, “When I fall in love with you after this, would it be too weird?”

Steve nips at his jaw, “It’s weird that you said you’re in love with me after I said I called you asshole.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

Steve smiles, “Good to know.” He pumps in two fingers, spreading them and curling them inside Bucky.

Bucky mewls. And with those two fingers, he actually feels like he’s already about to come. He gasps, shifting his hips, “Wait, wait.”

Steve pulls back immediately, eyes wide and worried, “What’s wrong?”

Bucky moves his hand down until he reaches Steve’s cock, hard and leaking against Bucky’s stomach. He wraps a hand around it and Steve shudders, his hips pushing against his fist, “Fuck.”

“Wanna suck you.” Bucky flips them over, crawling down between Steve’s spread legs. Bucky places kisses on Steve’s skin, nipping and playfully biting his thighs. Steve yelps at one particular suck, hand tightening on Bucky’s hair.

Bucky works his fist on Steve’s cock, licking under the head that had Steve’s thighs shaking. The taste teases him, so he swallows down, letting his hand stay at the base, squeezing every so often. With one parting suck, he moves down to Steve’s balls, sucking each of them into his mouth.

“Buck, _fuck.” _Steve pants. With his two large hands, he pulls on Bucky’s hair, making Bucky groan against him.

Bucky doubles his effort, going faster and sucking harder on Steve’s cock. And then he stops, flicking his eyes up at Steve and folding his hands behind his back. Steve looks down on him, chest heaving. Roughly, he asks, “Yeah?”

Bucky licks at his slit once.

Steve’s hand tugs at Bucky’s hair, willing him to stay still. And then he fucks up into Bucky’s mouth, hips moving into a smooth rhythm. Bucky forces himself not to gag, keeping his hands behind him. Steve is hitting the back of his throat, and _jesus fuck, _Bucky is leaking on the mattress. He can’t help but grind into it, and really, he can come just like this—with his cock rubbing against the mattress and Steve’s deep down his throat.

Then Steve pulls him up and away, dragging him until their lips meet again. Bucky moans into his mouth, feeling their bare cocks rub against each other, “Inside me, come on.” He lifts up, sitting on Steve’s stomach. Bucky swipes a condom laying in his cabinet, and he fumbles around with it, hands shaking.

Steve smiles at him, “You’re gorgeous.”

Bucky spits out the foil that ended up in his mouth, “You say that while I’m opening a condom?”

“I can say it anytime.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes fondly and rolls down the condom on Steve’s cock. He watches his reaction, pumping his hands harder and faster. Steve tosses his head back with a groan before taking hold of himself, “You wanna get my cock in you or what?”

Bucky almost whines because _fuck, _he does. He makes quick work of rising up to his knees, reaching behind him to grab Steve’s cock. The sink down was tough, Bucky’s breath hitching and a gasp of pain threatening to come out. Steve was rubbing his hands up and down Bucky’s sides, and his touch is enough to soothe him.

“Baby.” Steve murmurs. 

Bucky takes a deep breath. With one last push down, he’s back on Steve’s lap, thighs bracketing his hips. He rests his palms on Steve’s chest, tries to gather himself. The throbbing is deep in him, rendering him helpless. He feels _so _good and they weren’t even doing anything yet.

“This is gonna take a while.” Bucky breathes out.

Steve slides his hands up Bucky’s chest before stopping at his nipples. He begins to rub them with his thumbs. Bucky practically mewls. Finally, he raises his hips just so before dropping down again. Even Steve’s breath gets heavier. He hooks a hand on Bucky’s neck, murmuring, “C’mere.”

Like starving men, they chased each other’s tongues, the kiss deep and bordering on sloppy. Bucky swallows down Steve’s moan on a particular thrust, and Steve returns the favor, fucking his hips up. Soon, he gets tired of being underneath, so he gathers Bucky in his arms and flips them over. 

“Let me take care of you.” Steve pulls back, wrapping Bucky’s thighs around him. Leaning over him, he pistons his hips in and out. Bucky can’t stop a loud moan tearing his throat. He slaps a hand above him, gripping the pillow under his head. He’s getting moved from how hard Steve’s going, but Steve had it under control.

Steve folds Bucky more, resting his legs on his shoulders. The new angle cuts off the sound from Bucky’s loud mouth, reduced to stuttering gasps, “_Steve.” _And shitting hell, he feels _so good. _

“Buck.” Steve’s panting above him, hips going faster and harder, hitting right where Bucky needed him.

Bucky’s eyes roll back, “Oh my god, _Steve, _fuck—” He racks his nails down Steve’s arm, _“Shit, Steve! Fuck, fuck—”_

_ “Bucky.” _ Steve’s eyes are wide, watching Bucky writhe and squirm under him, loving every second of it, “You close, baby?”

_ “So close.”  _ Bucky pulls him closer. Their sweaty foreheads press together, mouths opening in gasps and breathing each other’s breaths, “Steve, _please, _harder.”

Steve kisses him hard on the mouth before sitting back. He removes Bucky’s legs from him, flipping him over. Bucky whines as he arches his back, presenting his ass to Steve. He couldn’t stop the curses flying out of his mouth when he feels a tongue lick right at his hole, not even going gentle. It sweeps over the puckered skin, before it gives in and slides inside.

“Oh my god.” Bucky clenches his fist on the duvet, _“Stevie—in me. Come on.”_

Steve pulls away with one, two hard sucks. Bucky looks over his shoulder to see him wiping his mouth with his arm. That almost makes Bucky come himself.

“I’m right here.” Steve presses a kiss on Bucky’s back before he’s sliding back in, the resistance now lesser than the slide earlier, “Good?”

“Hmm..” Bucky hums, “More, please.”

Steve nips at his ear, “You sound good when you beg.”

Bucky whines, “Asshole.”

Steve chuckles, and he fucks his hips forward, loving how Bucky’s back ripple. He gradually goes back to his rhythm, cock smoothly pumping in and out, going deeper and deeper as Bucky arches his back more. The sound and smell of sex fill the room, and Jesus, Steve is getting drunk in it.

“Come for me.” Steve goes hard, breath coming out in pants. He can feel his orgasm coiling inside him, and he bites down on his lip, willing himself to let Bucky come first.

_ “Steve!”  _ Bucky gasps sharply, practically latching onto Steve as he hits that particular spot. His fingers are shaking, nails digging into Steve’s back, “Oh god, I’m—” Bucky’s moan cuts off. His hair fans out behind him as he tosses his head back into the pillow. His hole squeezes around Steve like hell, and Steve fucks into it deeper, more, more before he finally releases into the condom. 

“Oh my God, Buck.” Steve pants. He finds himself nuzzled on Bucky’s neck, nose pressed on the thin layer of sweat. 

“Stevie.” Bucky breathes out, “Fuck.” He eases his grip on Steve, “Shit, we really fucked on the first date.”

Steve pulls out of him and he tumbles into the space beside Bucky. He’s still breathing hard, only calming down when he was the energy to lift up on his elbows to remove the condom, “We’re soulmates.” He pulls off the condom, lifting his head up a bit to scan the room for a bin. He tosses it at its general direction but it landed an inch from the bin.

Bucky groans, “Great.” Steve scoots closer to him, tugging him by the arm. Bucky goes, looking up at him, “Shouldn’t we say the sex was amazing?”

“You ruined it.”

“It _was _amazing, though.” Bucky rubs his nose against Steve’s shoulder.

Steve looks down at him, how he was clinging to Steve like a damn adorable koala, “Less than two weeks ago, you kicked me out of your shop because you didn’t believe in soulmates.”

“Two weeks ago is different from now.”

“You’re just weak when it comes to me.”

Bucky smacks a hand on his chest, sitting up, “I’m not _weak. _I am the night.” He mumbles as he gets up from the mattress. He brings the duvet with him, leaving Steve stark naked on the mattress. Steve yelps, grabbing the pillow and covering himself as if Bucky hadn’t put his dick in his mouth moments ago.

Bucky comes back with a clean towel, and a cup of hot chocolate, sheets wrapped around his shoulders and basically cocooning his whole body, Steve rolls his eyes fondly, beckoning him to come back to bed, “You’re ridiculous.”

Bucky sits back on him, and Steve takes his time wiping them down. Bucky turns his head towards him, tilting it to the side, and just looking at him, blue eyes shining.

“Hm..” Steve presses a kiss on his shoulder, “What?”

Bucky shrugs, “Alright, maybe we are soulmates.”

**Author's Note:**

> i was gonna add anal. i really was.
> 
> edited: i added anal.


End file.
